


Holiday Charm

by lilibug



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Just bughead being cute, Secret Santa Fic, bughead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:32:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilibug/pseuds/lilibug
Summary: Christmas Eve had gone so smoothly at Betty’s house — with her parents and Polly.Jughead wasn’t used to smooth. His life had been anythingbutfor as long as he could remember.





	Holiday Charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wicked_is_good](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked_is_good/gifts).



> This is my secret santa fic for [@aunt-imogene](http://aunt-imogene.tumblr.com) on tumblr! I hope you like it! :)

Using a hand to wipe away the condensation misting the mirror from his shower, Jughead stared at his reflection. Running a brush through his damp hair, he then used his fingers to fluff the strands back and away from his face. Inevitably, a curly forelock would make its way back to the front.

Jughead had slept fitfully last night after leaving the Coopers . He swiped his fingers under his eyes, willing away the dark, puffy circles that seemed more prominent today. With a shake of his head, he walked back towards his bedroom. Then he let out a dramatic sigh as he fell back onto the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he stretched his arms above his head.

Christmas Eve had gone so smoothly at Betty’s house — with her parents and Polly.

Jughead wasn’t used to smooth. His life had been anything _but_ for as long as he could remember.

Things had been looking up ever since he had worked up the balls to kiss Betty in the pouring rain that day.

He remembered it like yesterday, despite it having been some eight months ago. They had driven in his dad’s truck (that he had taken without permission) to The Sisters of Quiet Mercy, where Betty’s sister — Polly, had been hidden away by Alice and Hal for her pregnancy.

It was a trying day, one that had ended in heartbreak for Polly when she learned her boyfriend had been murdered. Then, Alice had shown up, acting like a raging bitch. She had called him “southside scum” and Jughead had to bite his tongue to keep his quips at bay. Of course, the insult wasn’t exactly adding to an injury, he had been hearing it all his life.

But Betty, bless her, had defended him. They hadn’t even known each other that well then.

Just a few weeks prior they had started working together when their mutual investigation into Jason Blossom’s murder brought the Blue and Gold, and the Red and Black together. They were sole members of their respective school’s newspapers and at first, had clashed beautifully. Southside vs Northside and all that.

But their investigations  continued to intersect with the information they could provide to the other; the pieces fitting better together than they did separately. Back then, he had begrudgingly admitted that Betty was a good person and was excellent at sleuthing.

Jughead had figured out the connection between the Serpents and Jason, and thus, consequently, their connection to Polly. He had actually approached Betty first, who then revealed her sister had been sent away for reasons unbeknownst at the time.

When Jughead had offered to drive her back from the deranged home for troubled youths — like something straight from One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest; he hadn’t been surprised when she said yes. The alternative was to ride with her mother after all.

Jughead had been surprised himself when he got out of the truck as she was walking up the sidewalk to her big, white, fancy house in her perfect Northside neighborhood. Jughead had grabbed her elbow, her name falling from his lips like a whisper through the pouring rain.

Betty had turned, looking at him, confused. Her lower lip was trembling from the chill of the rain that had soaked them to the bone. Rivulets making streaks down her cheeks, ponytail wet and dripping onto her shoulder. He had hesitated, searching her beautifully green, wide-doe eyes for something he wasn’t sure of.

Her quiet, “What is it?.... Jughead?” had pushed him to surge forward, cupping her face in his face as their lips met in a clash of pent up desire. Betty’s hands had gripped the front of his coat tightly, and he would always remember the little sigh she let out as they parted, and her smile against his lips.

She became the light of his life; a beacon of hope in a world of despair.

A world that included living at the Whyte Wyrm while his father was in jail for helping to dispose of Jason’s body. Included the Southside Serpents as honorary family members. Jughead knew he  lucked out, having had turned 18 at the start of the school year, and need not to have to live with his foster family any longer.

The trailer wasn’t really an option at that point, or rather, Jughead didn’t want to go back there to do more than grab the rest of his things. Instead, the Serpents offered him a room at the bar. Which, wasn’t bad. It was normally bustling with noise that drifted upstairs, but today, everyone was with their own families.

He hoped Jellybean was having a good Christmas — he hadn’t actually spoken to her in over a month. The last time had been when he had phoned  his mother, which had ended as one might expect — in them yelling at each other. Jughead’s already compromised mental state deteriorating  even more at the fact that his mother didn’t want him around.

Closing his eyes, Jughead felt the swirling ball of anxiety rolling in his gut. He wasn’t good at presents. He hadn’t gotten many over the years, unless you counted hand-me-downs from the Andrews’.

So, to say he was nervous was an understatement.

He had spent Christmas Eve with Betty and her family and today, she was coming over to the Wyrm for their own special Christmas celebration — just the two of them. She was bringing leftovers from yesterday and they were going to make white chocolate chex mix and watch A Christmas Story all day. Somewhere in there, they were going to exchange presents.

Opening his eyes, Jughead stared at the peeling, chipped paint covering the ceiling. In the quiet of the dingy room above the bar, it didn’t feel like Christmas.

Sitting up, he glanced out the window behind him. The past couple of years they had woken up to a white Christmas — but there wasn’t any sign of snow yet.

Pulling himself to stand, Jughead rooted around in his closet for something to wear. Jughead dressed in a burgundy cable knit sweater and a worn, faded pair of jeans. Plucking his beanie up off the nightstand, he pulled it on.

Glancing at the little box he had wrapped in silver paper, Jughead drummed his fingers against it before placing it in the drawer of his nightstand. He tidied the room up, picking up clothes and grabbing piles of trash and empty take-out containers to throw away.

At that point he heard and felt his phone buzzing gently against him in his back pocket. Pulling it out, Jughead saw Betty’s name flashing across the screen. He swiped his thumb across it, pulling the phone up to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Let me in, it’s freezing out here,” Betty’s voice was like music to his ears. Smiling privately, he started towards the stairs.

“What, no greeting? Just demands right off the bat? Geeze Betts, way to be a Harry and a Marv. Do I have to Kevin McCallister the bar now—?”

“Just hurry up, Juggie," he could _hear_ Betty's eyeroll. 

Taking the stairs two at a time, Jughead bounded towards the double doors. He undid the locks and pulled one of the doors open, the frigid air whooshing inside with a hiss and mixing with the warmth of the bar.

Betty was standing there, bundled up in her pink peacoat, hat and scarf, one mitten covered hand shoved in her pocket, the other holding the handles of a paper bag that no doubt held their Christmas feast. Her nose and ears were tinged red and her breath was visible in the air. To be fair, it was cold. The gust of air coming in through the doors was biting without a coat.

“A little chilly there, babe?” Jughead raised an eyebrow at her, lips turning up into a smirk.

Betty shoved the bag at him and he barely grabbed it from her before she was pulling her hands out of her mittens. His eyes widened and before he could dodge her, had clapped them over his cheeks. And despite her hands having been covered, they were still icy cold against his flushed skin.

He laughed, dropping the bag to the floor, hands cupping over hers and walking backwards, pulling Betty in through the door, as he kicked it shut.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” Jughead said, wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her up against him. With their bodies pressed flush, Jughead felt the chill emanating  from her clothes seeping into his, but also the softness of her body and her warm breath against his face.

Betty’s hands fell to grip his shoulders, her giggle at being twirled around was sweet and lovely to his ear. “Merry Christmas indeed,” she said, and Jughead could see the twinkle in her eyes before she pressed their lips together in a series of short pecks.

Setting her back down onto her feet, Jughead kissed the end of her cold nose and then her forehead. “Let’s get you warmed up,” he offered, helping Betty out of her outwear. As he watched each piece of clothing come off, he appreciated what he was left with.

Betty was wearing a soft, lavender sweater with a low-cut neckline. He could see the faintest edge of her white lace bra and was counting the seconds until he could see the rest. He admired her legs in her grey scallop hem skirt and couldn’t help but pinch the fabric of her tights — thick and warm, Jughead snapped them back into place on her thigh, dodging her hand that was swatting at him.

“Stop it. We have other things to do,” Betty chastised.

Scooping the paper bag up off the floor by the handles, Jughead closed the doors and slid the lock into place. He followed after Betty’s swaying hips, up the stairs towards the kitchenette in the loft space.

The afternoon was filled with laughter as they plugged Betty’s phone into the bar’s sound system and put on her Christmas playlist. They threw together the white chocolate chex-mix, complete with pretzels, m&m’s, peanuts, reese’s pieces, and cheerios. Of course, Jughead had been snacking on each item as they worked. While the mix was drying on parchment paper the two heated up their leftovers from the Christmas Eve meal.

After eating, they sat cuddled up on Jughead’s bed while they watched their second loop of A Christmas Story. Frank Sinatra’s _Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas_ was playing in the background. Betty’s hand was drawing small circles through the pattern of Jughead’s sweater. He had closed his eyes for a moment, so thankful for this perfect afternoon so far.

He opened them, eyes falling to where Betty’s head was resting on his arm. He knew he should give her his gift now.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he tried to ignore the ball of anxiety swirling in his gut. Clearing his throat a little, Jughead leaned up and over, fishing the small box out from the drawer of his nightstand.

Betty had sat up at his movement, leaning on her elbows, but when she caught sight of the silver wrapped box in his hands she sat fully upright.

Her eyes widened, “Is it present time? Hold on,” and as Jughead settled back against the headboard, Betty scrambled off the bed and out of his room. The entire 30 seconds she was gone were positively _nerve wracking_.

He fidgeted in his spot, fingers tightening the little red bow wrapped around the package on his lap. Jughead felt his palms grow sweaty at the thought of her opening this and seeing all his hard work. What if she didn’t like it? What if she merely pretended to like it? Would he be able to tell? What if she spent way more money on his gift?

The last thought made him blanch. He felt a little sick to his stomach. He didn’t have a lot of money, but he worked hard for what he did have. Jughead spent most of his after school hours either working at the Southside Library or doing jobs for the Serpents.

Betty didn’t have to work like he did, instead she donated her time to others — something that always made her more endearing to him.

Wiping his hands against the front of his jeans, Jughead watched her come padding back into the room. His present was presumably behind her back, where she was keeping her hands.

Betty climbed back onto the bed, facing him on her knees. Her smile seemed shy, like she was a little nervous too. It made him want to sigh with relief.

She finally pulled her arms out from behind her back, a box wrapped in paper that looked very much like his sherpa coat that Betty had gotten him for his birthday back in October. Jughead cracked a smile at that, looking up to her face to find her lip pulled between her teeth.

“Red, plaid wrapping paper?” the question came out before he could stop himself.

Her answering laugh was sweet, and he was glad to see a blush bloom on her cheeks. “It reminded me of you… I had to buy it when I saw it,” Betty’s fingers were playing with the end of the twine as she looked down at the gift in her lap.

Jughead couldn’t ignore the symbolism of the presentation of their presents to each other. His to her — a small thing wrapped in sparkly silver with a fancy, curling bow. Hers to him — larger, red and black plaid with a rough, simple piece of twine tied around it.

Juggling the small package between his hands, he thrust it out towards his beautiful, blonde, angel of a girlfriend without a second thought. “Open mine first.”

She let out a small giggle at his eagerness, but accepted the gift from him, passing to Jughead his own. Jughead set his present down on the bed beside them, concentrating on the way Betty’s fingers were gently pulling on the end of the red ribbon. She was always so deliberate and delicate with the way she did things.

“I, uh, worked really hard on it. It’s not much, but…” his words trailed off as Betty opened the lid of the box, laying eyes on gift inside. His insides were turning uncomfortably and he wasn’t sure he was breathing any longer.

Betty’s sharp gasp filled his ears and he took a stuttered breath as she lifted the delicate chain out of the box. Jughead’s heart was hammering in his chest and he brought a hand up to tug on his beanie.

“Juggie…”

He glanced up at Betty’s face to find her green eyes brimming with tears. His heart sank into his stomach. “No, no, no, please don’t cry,” he held his arms out for her and she climbed into his lap, burying her head into his neck. Her breath was warm on his neck and he pressed a kiss to her temple. Jughead wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in closer. He hadn’t intended for her to feel so deeply about the gift, even though he _had_ poured his heart and soul into it.

The gentle tinkle of the metal had him looking down to her hands. Betty was fingering each charm on the silver bracelet. He cleared his throat before beginning to explain.

“I made it. I’ve been staying after school a couple times a week. Mr. Andrew’s helped me, since I’m not a big shop guy,” Jughead rubbed his palm up and down Betty’s back. Her gentle nuzzle into his neck had him continuing.

“The flashlight is for our investigation that brought us together, the book because we share our love of literature, the motorcycle as a memory of our first _real_ date,” her fingers were touching each charm as he spoke, “the hamburger because of our late night dates at Pop’s, the crown and the bow to remind you of us.

“And finally... the heart, because I love you Betty Cooper, and I will always love you,” the words left him a torrent, sending an exhilarating rush though him, and he felt his head spinning from the way Betty had sat back, her hands cupping his cheeks. The adoration was visible in her intense gaze, in the lovely way her eyes were glistening.

“I will always love you too, Jughead.”

The distance between them closed, their lips pressing together in a kiss that had Jughead’s heart beating fast and slow all at once. The way Betty’s thumbs brushed against his cheeks, and her soft sigh into his mouth was like experiencing heaven.

They parted and Betty’s smile lit up her face as they leaned their foreheads against each other. “I’m never gonna take it off. Put it on me?”

Pulling back, she dropped it into his open hand and he clipped it around her slim wrist. He had used Toni as a model when he was making the bracelet itself, to make sure it was the right size. Jughead couldn’t help but be proud of himself when he saw how good it looked on Betty’s delicate wrist  and how happy she seemed to be with it.

“Ok, now it’s your turn. I’m afraid what I got you pales in comparison now, but…” Betty gestured to the box to his left and Jughead picked it up as she settled herself back comfortably on his lap.

“Betts, I would love anything that came from you. Even if you got me a Taylor Swift CD,” he made a face then, her laughter filling his ears as he picked up the box.

“Juggie, I would never. I like to think I know you better than _that_.”

He rolled his eyes, because even though it was true, gag gifts could still be fun.

Jughead pulled the twine from the box, handing it to Betty who dropped it next the red bow from her present. He ran his fingers along the thick paper, looking over the perfect folds. Pushing his thoughts to the side, Jughead tore into the paper. Discarding the paper to the side, he pulled the lid of the box off.

His lips parted, eyes raking over the bundle of cornflower blue fabric. He ran his fingers over it — soft and warm. It was a honeycomb pattern, with threads of slate grey mixed in. Jughead pulled it from the box, unfolding it. It looked like the sweaters he wore a lot, similar to the one he was currently wearing.

“Um, I made your present too. Well, knitted it,” Betty’s small voice flooding his ears as he swung his attention towards her. He looked back to the sweater, his eyes picking out the imperfections that might come from a homemade gift. It was amazing, regardless, and it must have taken a long time.

“I didn’t know you could knit?” he found himself saying, as he laid the sweater down over Betty’s lap. His fingers ran over the collar, admiring the gentle curve of the soft material.

“Oh, well I couldn’t. I learned. The ladies at the nursing home taught me in exchange for some computer lessons,” His breath wanted to catch in his throat. Jughead looked up at her, he was sure he looked as dumbfounded as he felt.

Betty Cooper who already had so much on her plate and did everything for everyone, learned how to knit in order to make him a Christmas present? He was sure that if he was the Grinch before, that his heart couldn’t get any bigger now. As it was, it was already threatening to burst out of his chest like a xenomorph.

“Really, Betts? You hate doing stuff with your hands like that…”

She gave a one-shouldered shrug and a smile. “I know, but it was for you. I wanted you to have a sweater that brought out the blue in your eyes and I wanted to make it. I wanted it to be special.”

Shaking his head, Jughead leaned forward, one hand sliding over Betty’s jaw to bring their lips together. “Anything from you is special,” he murmured against her, watching her eyelashes flutter as a blush bloomed on her cheeks. His heart felt whole and warm, bursting and overflowing.

“Try it on? I hope it fits,” Betty pressed the sweater into his hands and he nodded. She slid out of his lap, next to him. Jughead hopped off the bed, standing and pulling his current sweater up and over his head. He was wearing a white undershirt, but that didn’t stop Betty’s low wolf whistle.

Pulling the sweater over his head, he put his arms through it and pulled it down. It fit with a little extra room in the shoulders, but not obscenely so. The fabric stretched comfortably when he brought his arms over his head, stretching out his back.

“Wow. I think it looks better on. I got Kevin to try it on a couple times for me while I was drafting, so I think I did a fairly good job, right?”

Grinning, Jughead ran his hands down his front, looking up at Betty through the hairs escaping his beanie and falling into his eyes. “Uh, yeah, Betty. It’s amazing for someone who just learned how to knit.”

She smiled sheepishly, picking at the comforter on his bed. “Well, I’ve actually been learning since your birthday,” his eyebrows raised at that. “I know it’s probably lame to get you clothing two times in a row, but I really wanted to do the sweater for the winter. I promise that Valentine’s day won’t be clothes. At least, not for _you_ to wear.”

Again, Jughead’s eyebrows raised impossibly higher which made Betty laugh. “Betts, this is perfect. Clothes are fine, because guess what? That shit’s expensive. But I would gladly take another one of these knitted-by-the-hands-of-an-angel sweaters,” he winked at her.

Grabbing the sweater he was wearing previously from the floor, he folded it and went to put it on top of his dresser when he paused at the window in the room.

The sun was shining brightly outside, the light glinting off the reflective surface of the snow had apparently fallen in between when Betty had arrived and now.

“Babe, it’s snowing.”

The bed creaked as Betty got up, shuffling to his side to look out the window with him. “Oh, it is! And look, there are carolers just down the street, oh Juggie, let’s go out.”

Jughead’s eyes found the small group of people bundled up in coats and scarves and mittens, clutching a book of papers in their hands. They were over on Rose Lane, in front of the senior apartments.

Before he could answer her, Betty was already gone — running out of his room and tripping into her boots at the same time.

With a huff, Jughead followed after her, slipping on his own boots before bounding down the stairs. She hadn’t stopped to grab her coat that was hanging on the hook beside the door, which she had left slightly ajar.

Slipping through it and closing the door after making sure the handle would still turn, Jughead turned to the street.

Betty was twirling in the middle of the road, arms outstretched. There was already about an inch of snow on the ground and it was still falling from the sky. Her hair was already coated in big, soft flakes. Then her tongue was poking out to catch them and Jughead couldn't help but laugh at her.

“You’re such a kid.”

“Then come play with me, Juggie,” her voice sounded sultry despite the childish grin she was wearing.

Jughead stepped through the snow, almost sliding on the sidewalk. It was already getting slick and he thought with glee that Betty might have to spend the night to avoid the roads.

Once he reached her, Jughead picked her up, underneath her thighs and turned in a circle. Her arms were extended up above her head as she giggled. He could hear the tune of Deck the Halls from the carolers in the distance, floating towards them in the drifting snow.

Once he set her down, Jughead brushed her hair from her face. Her nose was already turning red and without a second thought he pulled his beanie off his head and brought it down overtop of Betty’s, securing it snugly over her ears.

Her wide eyes staring up at him with question made him shrug, hand sliding down her cheek. He kissed her beanie-covered forehead as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Would you call this a good Christmas, Juggie?”

He could feel the upturn of his lips as he looked down his girlfriend, “Of course. I’ve got you Betty, what more could I ask for?”  

Her smile was his answer, the tender way she moved her hands to cup his face. The soft pads of her thumbs brushed his cheeks before she pulled his face down, level with hers. Betty’s beautiful, green, doe-eyes gazing at him so intently that Jughead could feel her love like waves radiating from her.

“Merry Christmas, Juggie,” her voice was low, quiet. He ducked his head forward then, to press their lips together. Jughead moved his hands from her hips up to her waist, encircling his arms around her and tugging her close. With the space between them eliminated; the warmth of their bodies combating the cold air, Betty tilted her head, lifting herself up onto her toes as they kissed.

The soft hum of the carolers was fading into the distance, but they could still hear the melody. The uplifting hymns that made warmth course through him.

The snow was fluttering around them then, in a gust of wind, dousing them in a shower of snow. The frosty flakes blowing into their faces, making them spring apart. Betty’s gasp into his mouth just before she pulled away sweet like the white chocolate chex they had eaten.

Jughead was laughing then, as he brought a hand up to brush her hair back from her face, fingers swiping at the little flecks of water on her skin where the snow had already melted. The glimmer of shiny metal on her wrist caught the light and he smiled down at the girl in his arms.  

“Merry Christmas, Betty.”

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone!!!


End file.
